It Started With Thieving | Sherlock Holmes

4 - Imprisoned

A/N - Another hekkin long chapter in order to prevent there being a gazillion chapters in this book too 🤣

On the concept of children - what are your favourite boys/girls/unisex names?

Personal fave girls name = Elizabeth (aheh obvs) but I am also liking Branwen/Daphne/Kalla/Jean

Personal fave boys name = Hugo/Hugh

Fave unisex = Artemis/Jac/Will

Basically...I like too many names 🤣

WARNINGS: Distressing scenes, use of guns and threats towards the end.

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When Elizabeth had come to, she found herself staring at tenebrosity, pierced by small holes of fluctuating light, sometimes bright, sometimes dimmer. Her warm breath condensated on her face and she cringed at the musty odour of the material. The uncomfiness of the position that her arms found themselves in dawned on her as she flexed her hand, feeling the ball of her fist in her lower back. Then that wave of pain from her head...God, she wished it felt like she had had one too many drinks but the pain wasn't that kind to her. No...what had happened? Trying to pierce through that veil of cluelessness, the memories gradually revealed themselves to her.

Sherlock was alive.

Hanna had been taken.

Sherlock came back to her home and they were about to leave for his home.

Sherlock had disappeared.

Then she...oh...she had been taken too.

Was she sitting or lying down? Flexing her legs, she found they were lying against a hardish surface. A makeshift bed? Faint squeaking could be heard working in tandem with the changes in light. She was on a trolley, she was moving.

"Hello?" Came her hoarse voice, "I know someone's there."

"Foreigner, be quiet."

"My arms and back hurt. I need to move."

"You need to wait."

"Where am I?"

She received no answer.

"I asked a - "

There was a shrill shriek - sounded like metal drawn harshly against metal. A clang. The trolley shook and suddenly she found a change in gradient as she sharply slid off the surface, tumbling to the floor with a grunt. The metal cried again, ending with another clank of metal as she tried to help herself up onto her knees. If she had to guess, she would say she was in a cell.

As she was trying to work the binds off her wrists, the bag was ripped off her head. Light blinded her, she squinted, making out another figure, draped in black, stood in the cell with her. As her eyesight adjusted, she noticed he was holding a rather large gun.

"I will ask once: where is the drive?"

"Where's my - " She paused, "Where's my daughter?"

His large hand swooped down to slap her, backhanded. Collapsing, she hissed as a fiery feeling burned it's way across the surface of her cheek.

"Where's my...friend?"

"You answer my question first."

"Are they okay?"

The man's fearsome eyes glared at her as she lay there on the floor.

"Look, I don't know where the drive is."